Her parents were called.

She simply dwelled in unnecessary thoughts rethinking why she did what she did, the look on his face that he wore before seeing her injured, his displeased appearance diminishing into fear and worry.

Like he was in self-loathing, in regret, and she noticed he didn't make direct eye contact when they parted ways, perhaps remorse was easy to forge, digesting that the damage is done, incapable of undoing it, realizing it too late and there is nothing he could do now, that must be what he's feeling. But it was only temporary, she knows.

He'll forget the guilt to endure, to stand strong and act like a good guy in the end.

Her mother was the first to stand before her sight with an unreadable expression plastered on, her father just behind her, seeing her sit at the benches provided at the school entrance, just waiting for them to come.

Usually, her father would only show up in situations like these, when she got sick or majorly related matters, her mother probably came along due to their one-sided conflict, feeling guilty, feeling worried about how her little girl managed to hurt herself. She averted her glance, more intrigued by her shaking shoes than her concerned parents, who had yet to utter a word.

"How did you get hurt?" inquired the mother, pressuring the girl into compliance by steadying her voice, to make herself look like she hadn't caused this.

She blinked, now motionlessly staring at the pale floor.

"I asked, how did you get hurt?" her voice ultimately cracked, her emotional condition made apparent, clear, and plain to the eyes of the bypassers.

"You got into a fight, got hit, then hurt yourself in the process. What have you not been telling us?" she sobbed, her wrinkled eyes watered up, her father listened, not used to wearing his emotions on his sleeves but, maybe, there was a pinch of sadness somewhere in his eyes.

She simply soaked it all in, at a loss for proper words and explanation to give out, to utter and make sense of whatever she voiced in a fit of distress after the deed was done and said, she ought to be careful, but she was exhausted, drained of energy and will, not everything can be picture perfect, some unrequited information will spill, which she'll have to deal later or never.

"I fell, got hit by the desks pretty hard by this boy who slapped me, I said some bad things to him, he was mean and he teased me often. Today, it got worse." she gushed out, breathlessly pouring it out hoping to come off indifferent, unaffected, although, who could she fool, they knew her since she was a weak defenseless baby.

"You didn't tell us all this. Did you think we would not care? After we cared and provided for you for all these years?"

She said nothing, neither confirming nor denying it because she frankly didn't know, she's been naive her entire life and maybe she had started to believe some vile things she heard. She has been disappointing them with poor grades, less interaction, and just... distant. Hesitatingly speaking she glanced up, her facial features painted with melancholy.

"No. I just thought it would pass and, I think I was constantly giving him chances because we all are flawed. But, now I know, change is hard to come, even harder to instill."

"That's a wonderful thought..." mumbled her mother with a small smile, tears dried up, her father subtly grinning, "I'm sorry for saying those things earlier, you know how I am, I get angry all the time." she sadly mused smiling wide, tearing up for a split second.

"Your sister, we miss her a lot sometimes, doesn't mean we don't miss you. I've been having doubts, sweetie, I'm so sorry for shouting at you."

They softly smiled, understanding what the other meant without a voice to communicate, the girl appeared like she had more to say, but decided to linger for a bit. Observing her relieved and unburdened mother, how she gently nuzzled her hand and rubbed small circles on the back of her palm, she felt she could be honest. There was a lot in her heart left to bear, and telling them felt like it would help alleviate all of it but how was she going to do it?

It was quiet for a while, a peaceful, comfortable silence. Until...

"Can I ask for something, please?" the girl suddenly asked, the parents looked at her and wordlessly solicited her to carry on, she hesitated, disinclined to express herself, but she slowly unsealed her lips.

The sixth day of the week had come.

Katsuki sat on his chair pondering with a ripe frown, indolently shifting about and pretending to seem unbothered while secretly eyeing the door for newcomers, impatiently awaiting a certain girl's presence, tapping his leg ever so often, leaning forward with a hand to support his head.

Students had begun to flood into the classroom but the seat behind him remained empty, in his stupor, he had not sensed his side-buddies walking up from behind abruptly swinging an arm around his shoulder which he immediately shunned off. The two boys grimaced, sighing and then talking.

"You still thinking about yesterday dude?" they asked, earning themselves a sharp silence and no pleasantries, not that they ever got a 'good morning' from him. They glanced at one another, raising their eyebrows at their abnormally reserved friend who would yell for the smallest things at a time.

"You cool dude? You really look out of it."

He briefly glared at them, moulding a face of displeasure and ire.

"You are really fixated on her dude, you gotta get those hot chicks we saw at the club last week." suggested the smirking guy, elbowing his pal beside him.

"Yeah man, that brown-haired chick was really pretty..."

None spoke. Then

One of them unexpectedly laughed, seeming to have remembered something of value.

"You should have seen the way Deku ran to the office yesterday, he looked like an obedient dog.!" He snickered.

The blonde dismissed their rambling rolled his eyes once, and turned his face away but had noted down the small detail in his mind, louring. On cue, the bell rang, and the classes shortly began but someone was still missing.

She wasn't there.

He came back home that day yelling at his mother, slamming the door to his room, and throwing his bag into one corner of his space.

A few posters of all might, and a couple of black colored papers with a skull emoji printed on them, he stomped towards his phone. Swiping through notifications stumbling on a few interesting ones he did not discard, he opened another app, his wallpaper of his dream girl looking somewhere with a bored posture, he tapped a number and slowly rotated on his heels, calmly waiting for the line to connect.

"The number you have dialed is not available. Please try another number."

His heart dropped bringing it down to see it already on the contact list, biting his lips harder, he called it again, only to end up with the same results. She changed her number, that brat...

Re-opening another piece of equipment on his device, he searched for her account, to finalize with the same fruitless outcome. She deleted her account.

He stared and mindlessly continued. She was avoiding him again...

Harshly tossing his phone to the bed he clenched his balled-up fist, holding off for Monday to come so that he could confront her about it. Make her talk.

She didn't come the next day either.

He didn't focus in class he was irritated, itching for a good vocalization of his insults, just submerged in opaque thoughts wanting to take her out of her husk and squash her, but he couldn't reach her through calls or social media, he had to find her other accounts or better yet, go to her.

During lunch break. He spotted someone else. Her father strode toward the principal's bureau and disappeared inside, and he knew something was up.

He contemplated whether he should try to eavesdrop or not, however, he had involuntarily found himself nearing the room's entrance and concentrating on any voices. He could sadly only comprehend some words, others were too disjointed to attempt to uncover.

The keywords were 'leave' and 'resign'

She wasn't planning on leaving the school now, was she? Had he gone too far? Was she going to leave him after everything he did for her? He wanted to hurt her so badly... What was everyone going to think about them? Did she not care for him?

"Please make sure to correct your students so something like this doesn't happen again." Her father's voice sounded from inside the room closer to the door, he swiftly walked away, just in time to evade witnesses.

So she was going to leave the school.

And if she was, she must have given an account of everything that happened, which means they now know him, properly.

She was making it harder for him.

How was he going to get to her now?! He couldn't go to her home, he couldn't talk to her, he couldn't even message her, she ought to be taught a lesson once he secures a tight hold on her, she was going to suffer.

He was extremely upset now.

The next day, her name went uncalled skipping over her attendance, her seat behind him still vacant, and his suspicions were proved right, she had left the institute for real. He densely gripped his hand, thinking of a cruel scheme, and then immediately stumbled upon his dear old chum.

That evening, after school, he approached aoi first grimly breaking the news to her. After all, she was partly unaware.

The corridor was deserted and the girl nervously stayed behind. Inspecting the male silently carve his preferences, hand-stuffed in his pockets.

"You made her leave." He blamed.

The girl widened her eyes furrowed her eyebrows, and took a step forward, shoulders slightly lifted, seizing the right to speak and protect herself.

"Excuse me? I made her leave? I didn't hit her in front of the entire class the day before, you made her leave. Not me." She gallantly mumbled, grimacing at the blonde boy with crossed arms.

"As if you hadn't spread those rumors about her sleeping with me, you bitch, you know it, you have the blame in it as well."

He contended, invading her personal space shoving his face into hers, and she instinctively composed herself back from him. Responsibility sinking in fairly effortlessly, she now didn't have the conviction to look at him directly.

"You made me think that way!!" She weakly pronounced, choking back her tears. "What was I supposed to think when you forced me to get her clothing?!" She shouted shocking herself, but not holding back from stating the obvious. Katsuki frowned, ominously narrowing his eyes, lips tight, and taking a stance that meant he was ready to take a hard swing at her.

She carefully observed him, sniffing, a couple of tears had seeped out, her mind in crumbs and unknowing of her next action and speech. She venomously stared at him, pulling her arm to her chest.

"You told her about me, didn't you." He started after a tense moment had passed, wielding an undecipherable gleam.

She gulped, deflecting her gaze.

"I'm going to make your life a living hell." He muttered, throwing her one last glance before harshly pushing her out of the way.

She stood glued to her position.

Her heart was racing, and the dreadful sentiment of whatever he meant welcomed itself inside without an invitation.